A Night's Difference
by etherealhours
Summary: In which Connor confesses murdering Sam, and Oliver doesn't take it so well. (A/N: also posted on ao3 under etherealfantasy)


Connor had all his energy sapped from his system by the time he reached Oliver's apartment. He dug around his bag for the apartment key Oliver gave him, dragged his heavy feet over the threshold of the doorway, before letting his exhausted frame collapse into the couch.

"Connor?" Oliver treaded out of the bedroom, concern and worry etched all over his face. "I've been trying to reach you all day. Wha-" He saw Connor all curled up on the couch, his face buried in a crook as his body trembled, looking smaller and more defeated than ever. Oliver's voice softened, "Connor."

Connor felt the tsunami of emotions rushing back to him all at once, and he broke down in a mess of anguished tears and snot. He had been a shell of a man the whole time he was making his way to Oliver's apartment, completely numb and hollowed out by the recent series of events that transpired. But the void was now replaced by a weight so unbearable he could barely breathe as he wheezed between sobs.

Oliver had his arms wrapped around his crying boyfriend in a second. He carded his fingers through Connor's dishevelled hair, whispering saccharine words of comfort into his ears as he tried his best to calm his wreck of a boyfriend while keeping his own burgeoning fear at bay. _What had Connor done this time?_

He held the boy, rubbing soothing circles into his arms in silence. The air was heavy and charged with an unnerving energy. Oliver could feel Connor's fingers digging into his arms in an iron grip, as though he was clinging onto a buoy in an open sea. They held onto each other for what could have only been a few minutes, but it felt like an entire lifetime. Oliver took in a ragged breath, before letting the words leave his lips. "You know I love you no matter what right?"

The words offered no sanctuary to the crying boy in his arms. It sent Connor further into a tailspin and he sobbed even uglier. Oliver's profession of love found the chink in his armour and dismantled the veneer he has been putting up for the past few months.

It all came out in a blubbering mess.

"Ollie... I'm sorry... I..I'm so sorry... please d-don't leave me... please... I love you s-so fucking much."

He gasped brokenly, tightening his talon grip around Oliver as he tried to block out all his sordid misdeeds - hooking up with Pax, covering up for his clients in their court cases, framing the innocent... the murder of Sam. Returning home to Oliver, telling those bald-faced to him over and over again filled him with a disgust so potent that he could no longer stomach. He could not do it anymore. Not when Oliver was the only real and good thing left in his vile, corrupted life.

In the past, Connor would not have thought twice about lacking a moral compass. He had no qualms about batting his eyelashes to get favours, dispensing his lopsided, sexually-charged smile to charm others into giving him what he wanted, and having countless sexual partners for his sole gratification even if it meant hurting those who loved him. Connor used others ruthlessly like they don't matter. He was a conniving law student, his character besmirched with his egomania and manipulative tendencies.

He could cruise through life living like this because his ambition had took the helm. Armed with a natural intellect that got him a place in one of the most prestigious law university, a pretty face landed him whatever piece of ass he wanted, and a supportive family that provided him with a generous financial backing, Connor Walsh had a perfect life going. Nothing mattered more than being the cream of the crop.

Falling in love in Oliver was the first step to confronting the person he'd become. It forced him to hit the brakes and truly look the sly, guileful man in the mirror. He was a foil to Oliver's kind, nerdy and trusting nature. He did not think he deserved to be with someone as innocent as Oliver. And the recent murder of Sam administered the final blow for Connor to crack. He was now a murderer, a murderer that killed in cold blood and one that he had let Oliver sleep next to every single night.

"I-I lied, Ollie. There were no drugs." A pause. "I-I killed someone."

Oliver pulled away instantly, eyes red-rimmed and blown wide with horror and hurt. He backed away from Connor, uncomprehending and betrayed. The cogs in his mind had pulled to a stop. He could not process what Connor had just said.

"T-that night when I came... so completely out of it... I lied... it wasn't the drugs Ollie... I-I screwed up b-because..." he voice hitched, going unnaturally high as he struggled to breathe in-between the onslaught of heavy emotions and words. "-because I killed Sam."

It wasn't the murder that got to him. At that point of time, all that Oliver could process was that Connor had lied again. Every time he caught Connor lying was akin to a stab in his chest. The memories started trickling back. The night Connor came, disoriented and pulled taut with horror and fear, that was three months ago. Connor had strung him along for the past three months, covering the truth with layers and layers of lies and deceit as always. All that promise about being truthful, committing to a relationship like a boring, domesticated, cohabiting couple, all of it has been nothing but a farce. In the haze of abject hurt and betrayal, Oliver had chosen to withdraw.

"Connor, I- I need to go."

He knew the terrible weight Connor had on his shoulder. He knew Connor may not be the most moral person, he may be a handful at times, but he wasn't a cold-blooded murderer at heart. But what hurt him was that Connor had once again chosen to lie again, instead of trusting him with the truth. He needed to get away, momentarily. All he needed was some space to breathe, before even facing Connor again.

"Ollie, p-please." The tears were relentless and Connor sounded so small, so scared. "I love you. I love you. I have no one left. Please, don't go."

Oliver should have known better than to leave the broken boy at his most vulnerable state. He should have known better than to reach for the keys above the mantelpiece, stagger out of his apartment, leaving his keening boyfriend who was begging for him to stay. He should have held his boyfriend, fulfilled his promise, proved to Connor that he loved him no matter what happened. Oliver should have tried to understand, showed him he was still loveable even in his most unlovable state. Most importantly, Oliver should have showed him that there was still something worth living for.

* * *

Oliver is out of tears as he sits in the hotel's sofa watching the news broadcasting the suicide of a young law undergraduate in his neighbourhood. He feels nothing when the newscaster mentioned a jump, "not a pretty death", an unruly mess at the scene. He feels nothing as the memory of fleeing his apartment like a coward replays on loop in his head, vivid as ever. He feels nothing as he thinks about how he had placed his own selfish needs above Connor's that one night. He thinks about all the difference it could have made.

He presses the power button on the remote, and the screen fades to black.


End file.
